


Ruthless

by thrash_panda



Series: Villads Cycle [1]
Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, Origin Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:27:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22948549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thrash_panda/pseuds/thrash_panda
Summary: "There are no beautiful surfaces without a terrible depth." -NietzscheA young Villads finds himself in a horrible dilemma and must decide what to do to stay true to himself and save those he loves.
Series: Villads Cycle [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1649227
Kudos: 5





	Ruthless

The three travelers thanked Captain Villads as they stepped out onto the dock.

"Best of luck on yer journey, mateys! And Rayla, don't forget the waterproof socks!"

"Huh?" Callum wondered aloud.

"Nope. Don't ask." Rayla responded. "Thanks for the advice, Villads with a silent D!"

"Arr!" he said energetically.

"Can we get some jelly tarts here before we move on?" the youngest of them asked. "I hear Eastern Katolis jelly tarts are amazing!"

"Can you stop thinking about jelly tarts for two seconds?" Callum said.

"Oh seriously? The guy who wants to give me a heartfelt speech about sandwiches is going to lecture me?" Ezran shot back.

"What?" Rayla said quizzically.

"Nothing. Don't ask." Callum responded as they steadily walked out of earshot.

Villads smiled as he listened to them continue on their way. It reminded him of his own youth traveling through the kingdoms and even further afield. He plaintively wished he could look on the lands to the East again through his own eyes. He rowed back out to the ship with Berto's guidance and hoisted the rowboat back onto the deck.

Villads found his way below deck and took off his overcoat. Berto flew in behind him and landed on the edge of a cot as Villads took a seat at a bare desk. Everything had gone better than he'd imagined given the weather. 

"About time we talked to Crow Lord." Villads said to Berto. "Do you want to head up to the mast and keep lookout?"

"Yep." Berto replied.

"Do you mind if I take a look too?" Villads asked.

Berto paused. "If you must," he squawked, annoyed. Then he flew out the door and up onto the mast.

Villads let his awareness steadily flow outward. Feeling Berto's presence at the top of the ship, he opened his eyes and saw the bay glimmering in the afternoon sun. Berto's vision was very different from human vision, which caused a certain amount of disorientation for Villads. Colors were different and much broader in scope. Berto's eyes were positioned so he could see in almost all directions simultaneously, and there was a painful clarity to his sight that made Villads's head ache. He peered out into the bay for any sight of followers, and convinced that he was safe, let his awareness slip out of Berto again. Back in his own sightless body, he put his hands to his temples. The experience of bringing his full awareness into Berto would often leave them both worse for wear. He reached for the rest of his morning tea and took a few sips of the bitter liquid, then gave himself a few moments to recover.

Content with his brief rest, Villads allowed his mind to go blank again. He felt the gentle rocking of the ship in the cove and listened to the sound of the water against the hull. He then let his awareness sink down into the depths below the ship and reach outward from the protected cove into the broader expanse of the bay. If Crow Lord was at the agreed upon place, everything should go smoothly. He sunk further down to the seafloor. He could feel the cold of the abyss and the crushing pressure of water above him. He was glad when his consciousness reached the docks back in Port Town. 

* * *

Crow Lord sat impassively by the docks reading a letter. As usual, a small flock of birds had gathered near him. This rarely presented a problem for him during his day to day job among the messenger crows, but when traveling, it earned everything from confused glances to outright terror. He was glad to be on the docks where flocks of seabirds were not an uncommon sight, though a keen eye would notice several birds from inland as well. Presently he heard the nearest seagull stop mindlessly cawing, and when he looked up, the bird was staring at him.

"Well, hello there, little friend," Crow Lord said, mildly amused. The bird stared back at him impassively.

"I've just delivered the princes and the Moonshadow elf across the bay. They had Zubeia's child with them," the gull said.

"Good." Crow Lord replied. "Were there any complications?"

"Just a storm, but Berto and I handled it like we always do," the bird continued. "I doubt we were followed in that weather, but I have him standing lookout up above. What's the news from the west?"

"Oh, the usual." Crow Lord stretched out his long legs and continued to speak. "It seems Viren is on his way to an illegal gathering of the Pentarchy. My apprentice just sent me a message. Viren forged the seal of the king and is claiming himself as regent to the other kingdoms. The High Council has voted definitively against war, but Viren hopes that if he can bring together a coalition of the other nations, he can force their hand."

"Wow. That's quite a development." The seagull shifted nervously from foot to foot. "How receptive do you believe the other kingdoms will be?"

"Honestly, they may be swayed either way," Crow Lord continued, "though Aanya has already been apprised of the situation and will push for a level-headed response."

"Thank goodness. Is there any news from the breach?"

"Not sure," Crow Lord said. "Our contact there hasn't been heard from since the king's death. We're looking into it. How were your charges?"

"In decent enough spirits when they left. The prince is trying to connect to the sky arcanum, though I think he has more than a few things to learn." The gull laughed. "And I give it a week before him and that elf realize they're crazy about each other. The young king is doing well, and I believe, though I'm not sure, he has his own connection he hasn't fully explored yet." 

"This could make things very interesting indeed," Crow Lord responded. "What are your plans now, if I may ask?"

"Well, I..." The gull paused. "Hold on a minute." The gull then began to mindlessly caw again.

Villads heard a commotion coming from the mast. He severed his connection to the sea to find out what was going on. Berto flew in from the doorway cawing wildly. "Danger! Enemies are..."

A hushed sound rang in the air followed by the sudden thump of an arrow into wood and a loud scream of pain. Berto hung from the wall of the cabin thrashing wildly and screaming frantically, pinned there by an archer's bolt.

"Make your way out here, sailor! And don't make any sudden moves!"

Villads picked up his cup of tea and walked out onto the deck. He could make out the sounds of three people. One walked behind him, blocking his path below deck. One stood to Villads's left. The archer stood near the bow.

"Who do I have the honor of speaking with?" Villads asked conversationally.

"You were seen leaving Port Town with the princes of Katolis and an elf. Tell us where we can find them, and we'll let you live."

"Ah, mercenaries. Well, ahoy there, mercenaries." He responded "Welcome aboard the Ruthless."

Villads grasped the cold cup of tea in his hands.

* * *

Sailing from the Xadian port out into the Southern Sea had been largely non-eventful. Autumn was often a time of tumultuous weather in the south, but the relative mildness that year was a boon for the pipeline. Villads walked out onto the deck of his ship and looked to the western horizon as dusk began to settle. He could tell from the state of the ocean that storms were gathering to the south, but barring any major changes he would be at the lighthouse at the edge of the bay in Katolis by tomorrow night, and the winds were consistent enough that he knew he could keep the ship under sail while he slept without the risk of going far off course.

The southern pipeline was one of the main sources of magical items from Xadia. While the border of the continent itself was entirely divided by the great rift, save for a few clandestine entry points, the seas were relatively open. The northern pipeline was much easier to navigate, but as a result, it was heavily guarded by Tidebound Elves, and as many knew, the queens of the northern kingdom of Duren did not abide a black market operating in their lands as it could further antagonize the elves and lead to needless confrontation.

By contrast, Katolis was much more willing to overlook a criminal undertaking, particularly if they could profit from it. It helped that the new high mage of Katolis was one of the most avid consumers within the pipeline, and his sway helped immensely to allow the black market to continue operating. It was also apparent that his aspirations were becoming greater than just benefiting from the pipeline. His emissaries were beginning to show up in more southern coastal towns, inspecting shipments directly and generally taking over operations. But Port Town itself was a fairly backwater place, and thus far had evaded the kingdom's efforts to take control of the supply chain. This meant much less oversight, which was just the way Villads liked it.

But the southern path was treacherous for those who attempted it. Wind and waves were strong most of the year, and shallow reefs near the shore and the rocky coastline itself meant shipwrecks were more an eventuality than a possibility. Villads himself had been in one as a teenager and had spent a week alone on a rowboat at sea. If a heavy rain hadn't given him a source of fresh water two nights in and if he hadn't spotted a faint glimpse of land days later, he would have died then and there. But after years of navigating the southern sea, Villads had an almost preternatural ability to sense these dangers and avoid them. Eventually, he developed a reputation for navigating this path where no other captain could, often alone.

Villads was in especially high spirits on this trip. During his time at port in Xadia, he'd managed to acquire a very special prize: a moon opal. It was a rare treasure, particularly here in the southern pipeline, and it took the entirety of his upfront pay, but he gladly parted with it. Like a few of the other smugglers in the pipeline, Villads had fallen in love with an elf, Terani-Ekaton-Rutana, though most called her Ruth. Unfortunately, due to a bit of a misunderstanding (but mostly some legitimate thievery on her part) she was persona non grata in Xadia, so she had traveled with Villads back to Katolis a few years ago. As most Katolians would be inclined to kill an elf on sight, she needed to be inconspicuous, but unlike some elves who could just employ a good hat and gloves for a disguise, her blue-green skin would give her away immediately. Since neither of them wanted a life in which she was stuck indoors permanently, she'd had to resort to using glamour spells to change her appearance. These were certainly common to the Xadian underworld. A pipeline friendly moon mage could cast a decent glamour that would last for a month at a reasonable price. But in Katolis, no such connection existed, or if it did, Villads certainly didn't know of it. Villads and Ruth had needed to resort to dark magic to cast glamours. The effects of even a simple glamour would sicken Ruth for days, so Villads would usually cast it for her, and the spell often lasted only a week or so. But with a moon opal, Villads could fashion an amulet that would change her appearance at will. He daydreamed about the opportunities this would open up for both of them.

Villads climbed the mast to the yardarm and surveyed the sea to the north with his good eye. He was far beyond sight of land, but he could see the faint pillar of steam where the river of magma from the Rift met the sea. He'd been there once with Ruth when they first sailed from Xadia to Katolis together. The giant billowing cloud rose miles into the sky, and they had both stood on the deck in awe for a full evening watching it. It was a welcome reprieve for her from the rest of the journey largely spent battling nausea below deck. She was born in the high, arid Skywing lands east of the Midnight Desert and rarely saw more than an occasional stream of water. In the waning twilight as the faint glow of the rift began to light the horizon, Villads and Ruth looked into each others eyes and almost simultaneously realized that they'd spend their lives together. Villads didn't remember exactly who had asked whom; it really didn't matter, but that night they became engaged. They spent the entire night on deck in one another's arms, dreaming of the life they'd have and watching the sun rise together.

As Villads continued his watch, he noticed something to the northeast: a small dot in the sky. He reached for his spyglass and brought it to his eye. It was a dragon. His heart sank. What were dragons doing in the southern ocean? This path was normally clear this time of year. He'd only ever seen them far to the north where occasional patrols of the shore did happen from time to time, but it would be unprecedented to see one over 100 miles from land. However, as the image in his spyglass steadily resolved itself, there was no mistaking it. This was a sky dragon, and it was headed straight for him.

Villads sprinted below deck. Fortunately, for emergencies such as this, he did keep a small dark magic cache. Simple spells like ship mending were common for smugglers and pirates to know, but Villads had gone further than many smugglers and studied quite a bit on his own. He didn't particularly enjoy casting dark magic though and avoided it as much as possible. The nausea and mild delirium itself was enough to dissuade most people, and he could feel its effects on him for weeks. Also, Ruth was always uncomfortable with dark magic, and for her sake, he had avoided it even when it would make things a lot easier. He'd also made an effort to study the primal magic equivalents for most things, though the rarity of primal stones and magic gems made this more a rationalization for himself than an alternative. But he had read a fair bit about practical magic and considered himself if not a true mage, then at least a decent hedge mage. A vial of moon moth larvae could be used to cast a very convincing cloaking spell.

He searched for his cache of magical items in his cabin. Normally he kept it by his desk, but in the confusion of unloading his ship, he'd apparently moved it. He pulled books from shelves and threw items from his desk in a desperate attempt to locate it. He climbed down to the main hold and tried to find it there among the ballast and main stores. He ran back onto the deck, and tore through his rope, sails, barrels and lifeboat, screaming in frustration. The dragon was getting close now. Villads could make out its form without his eyeglass. He didn't have long. His hand moved to the moon opal in his pocket. Villads cursed loudly. Slowly, resentfully, he pulled the stone out and held it above him.

_"Mystica Mare!"_ he intoned, crushing the stone and tracing an arc with his hand. The spell was beautiful... perfect. A pearlescent shimmer enveloped his ship and he immediately knew that any outside observer would see nothing but the sea around him. The dragon slowed. Villads sat still as a statue on deck hoping not to draw the its attention, though it wouldn't have mattered. The moon opal's illusion was flawless. Over the next several hours, the dragon searched ceaselessly. It made long sweeps over the area hoping to find what it thought it had spotted, but to no effect. Eventually, apparently assuming what it had seen was a trick of light or a shallow reef, it dejectedly headed northward again.

Villads stood slowly. His stillness had left him stiff and aching. The effectiveness of the spell mocked him for those hours spent silently waiting for his nightmare to end. His foolish disorganization had saved him in one sense: a cloaking spell cast using dark magic would have worn off long ago, and he would be dead. But it had cursed Ruth. In the growing dusk, Villads retrieved his heavy cloak from his cabin. Beneath it, sitting neatly on the floor was his magical cache.

* * *

Terani walked the narrow streets of Port Town. A few people were still out, and as was the tradition here in the West, Terani politely nodded in their direction as she passed. It felt strange after weeks stuck at home to suddenly be able to walk freely about again. That and the lingering effects of the spell she used made her feel somewhat disconnected, like she was watching herself from afar reacting to these people going about their lives. It had only been about a day since she cast it, and her head still swam. Villads would usually cast it for her, and she hated that he needed to, but she was glad to hand off at least this burden. Despite her mild disorientation, Terani was in a good mood. Now that she had a disguise, she'd be free to surprise Villads at the dock when he returned.

She particularly enjoyed walking through the market on days like this. She didn't steal things as a rule these days, but she liked knowing that she could. Occasionally she'd swipe a piece of fruit here or there, but she'd always leave money for the merchant as well, and that mild impropriety was enough to assuage her without raising suspicion. Today, Terani casually misdirected the fruit merchant's attention and palmed an apple from his stand, then slipped a coin into his pocket as she said goodbye. She laughed as she walked away and took a bite.

From there, Terani headed to Cassidy's pub near the docks. It would be fairly quiet at this time of the week, and she enjoyed chatting with the barkeep. Cassidy was one of the very few people in town who had any idea that Terani wasn't like everyone else, though she made it a point of pride to never pry too deeply into anyone's affairs and would often tell anyone who would listen that she found this to work better anyway for gathering intelligence. Cassidy's pub was a bit of a hub for the black market in eastern Katolis. She had been running the establishment with her two sons for about fifteen years. Rounding the final corner and opening the door, Terani found the pub mostly as she had expected it: a few scattered people here and there, but largely empty.

As she sat down at the bar and ordered a drink, she heard a commotion outside the door. Two crownguards walked in. Their heavy armor and officious manner stood in odd contrast to their surroundings. One approached the bar with a scowl and leaned uncomfortably close to Terani to speak with Cassidy.

"The king will be arriving soon. Have three rooms ready for him," he stated curtly before leaving.

Cassidy nodded then signed to her eldest son across the room to go prepare them. After sighing resentfully and making a few signs that were abundantly clear to all in the bar, he disappeared up the stairs.

"Looks like we're in for an interesting night, Ruth," Cassidy said, smiling.

"Indeed. Did you know anything about this?" Terani asked.

"I'd heard the King and a small party headed to the Breach a few days back, but beyond that nothing. Since the new king took power, we haven't yet found a steady source of information from the capital." Cassidy slid a drink in Terani's direction. "This one's on the house tonight. I haven't seen you in a while, Ruth. Hope all's well."

"Yeah. Haven't made it out of the house in a few days. Just feeling down, I guess," Terani lied. She knew Cassidy would see through it, but for the sake of any eavesdroppers, it was good enough. "At least that soldier had a really nice gift for me," she said, placing a Katolian dagger on the table in front of Cassidy, whose brief surprise was followed by a hearty laugh.

In ten minutes, the door of the pub opened again. This time, several soldiers entered, followed by the imposing figure of the king of Katolis, Harrow. But the Harrow that Terani witnessed now wasn't the same she remembered from the illustrations she'd seen in news postings just months prior. This man looked distant, even broken. Without looking up at any of the soldiers or other people in the pub, he made his way solemnly upstairs, followed by his retinue.

Next through the door, was a tall, fierce looking woman, the Queen's sister Amaya, Terani realized. The Queen and her sister's reputations as warriors was nearly unprecedented, and Terani hoped to speak with her. Much like the king though, she seemed in no mood to interact and headed quietly upstairs.

After the initial influx, most of the soldiers in the bar left and headed back to their camp on the outskirts of town, but a few dispersed themselves around the room. They talked in hushed voices amongst themselves, but it was clear from their manner and the way that their eyes darted about that they'd been ordered not to talk to anyone else about anything of substance. They were generally courteous though, and Terani fell back into polite conversation with Cassidy.

Several minutes later, another man entered the bar. His dark clothing and staff immediately identified him as the King's high mage, Viren. Much like the king and the general, he seemed in a particularly dour mood. The exhaustion in his face was clear. He found a table in the corner of the bar that a few soldiers were occupying. A look from him was sufficient to make them leave. He chose a seat with a view of the room and motioned to Cassidy for a drink.

"Cheerful blighter, isn't he?" Cassidy quipped.

Terani wasn't paying attention though. She had felt an aura of menace emanating from the mage that had just entered. Her nausea and sense of disconnectedness was somehow aggravated by his presence, and she found herself grabbing onto the bar to steady herself. "I think I need to head out, Cassidy," she muttered.

"Okay, Ruth. Take care of yourself," Cassidy responded on her way to Viren's table.

Ruth stood and began walking to the door. In the corner, Viren noticed her, and sudden awareness entered his face. He stood. Ruth stepped through the door, and feeling somewhat better in the fresh air outside, she quickly disappeared around a corner. Within the pub she heard a loud noise like the hissing of inhuman speech, a dark magic incantation. Immediately, she felt an unnatural chill and a strange sensation running through her body. She realized what had happened in a sudden panic: Viren had used a dispel. Terani looked at her hands, now clearly not those of a human. She was an elf, stranded in the middle of a human town teeming with Katolian soldiers.

Terani scaled the nearest building and crouched on the roof trying to find an inconspicuous place to hide. The door to the bar burst open, and Viren and a group of soldiers poured out. She witnessed Viren give whispered instructions to the soldiers, who dispersed into the town. Viren stood in the street briefly, his eyes darting in several directions nervously, then turned and entered the pub again.

Terani breathed a sigh of relief then made herself comfortable. It was still fairly early in the night, and if she wanted to make it home alive, she'd have to wait until the streets were empty. She looked up at the sky full of stars tonight and fantasized about her home back in Xadia. After an indeterminable length of time, she looked around. Her current position gave her a decent view into a window in Cassidy's pub.

Sitting within was the king. A single candle was burning on the desk he was seated at, and the king was hunched over looking at something. In the corner behind him was a spear fashioned into two uneven points like the towers of Katolis. Terani risked a closer look at what the king was looking at. In his hand was a drawing, a child's drawing, of a family. The father and mother both wore golden crowns. The mother held a baby, and next to her stood another young child. Harrow stared at the drawing ceaselessly, occasionally wiping his face. Terani suddenly felt guilty spying on his grief and moved away from the window. Her eyes moved back to the sky above her, but her thoughts now were more troubled.

After what seemed like days, Terani climbed down from the roof, and with much care, made her way out of town and back home. She was trapped there again, still feeling the nausea from the spell she'd cast but now clearly no longer enjoying its benefits. Terani defeatedly walked into her bedroom and fell asleep.

* * *

As dawn broke the next morning, Villads found himself exactly where he had expected, in the deep waters south of the bay. However, the winds had begun to pick up. Out in these deep waters, this wasn't an issue, but as he headed toward the shallows, he knew there could be trouble. The storms to the south gave him a southerly wind, and as he pointed the ship northward, he unfurled his spinnaker to make better time. By noon, he found himself at the first of the shallow breaks south of the bay into Katolis. Dropping the spinnaker and hoisting the jib with practiced efficiency, Villads began the most treacherous part of his journey. 

Looking ahead, he could see (or sense) the break of whitecaps, and he jibed the mainsail and headed eastward toward the narrow passageway leading into the bay. As he turned perpendicular to the waves, his ship began to rock sickeningly. He could now hear the sound of waves breaking, and no more than a few ship lengths aport he saw the reef. But ahead of him he saw the narrow passage he needed to navigate through. He jibed again, and the ship turned just in time. A less experienced sailor would have dashed their ship into the reef and died here, far from aid. But this was what Villads lived for: sailing close to danger, feeling the water beneath him move and the winds carry him wherever he pleased.

By dusk, he found himself safe in the wide bay of Katolis. He'd have to drop sail and set anchor that night for safety, but he still had a few hours left in him and looked forward to a good night's rest. Heading below deck, he became curious about this cargo that had cost him so much already. Villads had never been tasked with a cargo like this before. In lieu of a heavy load of magical items, he'd been handed a single crate small enough for him to carry on the ship unaided. He opened the crate to find a box tucked neatly within a large amount of straw padding.

His one good eye went over the smooth wooden box. It was featureless except for a small shell-inlaid sky rune on the lid. The large grain and density seemed to suggest the Xadian giant maple, a rare species known for its immense samaras. On past trips into Xadia, Villads had even seen elves ride these down from the highlands near the border into the Moonshadow forest. But these trees were held in esteem and almost never harvested for wood. This box was truly a prize. The mage who received it would almost certainly be using the wood itself in addition to its contents.

After nearly twenty years of smuggling and piracy, Villads knew not to ask too many questions about what he was tasked with delivering. There were things that it was better not to know. He had spent many journeys marveling at the wonders of Xadia and the magical creatures therein, and it bothered him that he was involved in a pipeline that led to the deaths of some. He found it easier to not ask questions, to not look too deep into this career he'd found himself in, and he knew the consequences if he were to try to leave it. However, as his eye came to rest on the sky rune in the center, his curiosity began to build. He was accustomed to lading his ship with several barrels worth of items, but he was given double his usual rate for this one thing.

His hands felt out the edges of the lid. The seam was so finely crafted as to be nearly imperceptible. He slowly worked the lid off and peered inside. Beneath a satin sheet embroidered with the same sky rune, he found his answer. An immediate revulsion set in, and half-dropping it on the table, he pushed the box away from him. But with the lid and sheet removed, nothing protected him from the sight of the two smooth, gray horns neatly arranged within. At first glance, they were so much like  _ her _ horns that he almost thought they were hers, that somehow the soulless poachers had found their way to his home and... but no. These were not Ruth's. They were too small. They belonged to a child. His hands began shaking, tears welled up, and a harsh sob escaped him. He wanted to look away, but a voice echoed in his head, fiery and imperious, willing him to keep looking, to fully grasp the enormity of this crime.

He spent the night at anchor near the old lighthouse. Waves buffeted the ship for hours, but Villads showed no signs of acknowledging this. He lied on the deck staring up into the sky seeking out the constellations that Ruth had pointed out to him years ago: the Sky Maiden, the Great Wing that creates all wind, the Thunderbolt that had caused the Storm Spire to erupt from the steppe near the Midnight Desert. There was little doubt that this child would have heard the same stories, learned the same constellations, that she would have been taught of the sense of freedom and adventure that lay at the heart of the Sky arcanum. Until this moment, Villads had considered himself an adopted child of the Sky. Now he could feel the chains holding him down which he'd for so long convinced himself didn't exist. He realized that the sense of freedom and adventure that he'd tried to embody was a sham. He knew what had to be done.

It took all of his mental effort to walk back below deck into his cabin, to look again at the box and its heart-rending contents. He removed the horns from the box. Now that the wind and waves had let up some, he lowered the small rowboat from the davits in the stern of the ship and debarked carrying the horns with him. In twenty minutes, he was standing on shore, cradling the small horns and staring out at the sea as the first rays of dawn appeared on the horizon.

In Skywing Elf tradition, burial was anathema. Putting someone's remains in the ground for eternity was a curse beyond thought. Skywing funerals were held at the top of high peaks, and their bodies were left exposed to the air and to carrion birds or set alight on great pyres to return to the boundless sky from which they came. There were no great peaks near the old lighthouse, but there was a hill near the shoreline covered by oak trees where a small pair of horns would go unnoticed. Villads walked up the hillside and eventually found himself in a clearing near the top. The break in trees offered a view of the wide bay. Wind blew through the leaves above him. This was not like the expansive charnel grounds of the Skywing Elves, but in the golden morning light, he felt the essence of Sky here.

Seeing a tree with low branches near the edge of the clearing, he placed the horns in a pocket and began to climb. When he reached a point where he could climb no further, well above the ground below, he found a natural depression formed where multiple limbs branched out from the trunk. Here, high above the ground, he solemnly and carefully set the horns.

"I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I'm sorry I didn't have the courage to see this life for what it is... to see who it's hurting. I'm sorry that for twenty years I've chosen to be so blind to everything around me. But from here on, I'm going to fight to make sure that no one else meets your fate. I'm going to end this cycle."

* * *

In his ship, Villads stared at the empty box in front of him. He had very little choice in his next actions. He'd need to enchant the box to make it appear as if it held a pair of Skywing Elf horns. And fortunately, he had everything he'd need for that basic illusion. Then he'd need to make it to port, deliver his cargo, find Ruth, and get out of Katolis as quickly as possible. It's possible that the Queens of Duren would offer them safe haven. From there, he'd have to worry about finding another moon opal for Ruth, and then they'd be free.

He retrieved the moon moth larvae and uttered a brief incantation. Within the box, there appeared a perfect facsimile of the missing elf horns. Villads's head swam. He staggered out onto the deck and sat in the open air, allowing the worst of the side effects of the spell to pass. Returning below deck, he retrieved some stone ballast from below deck and positioned them to mimic the weight of the horns as well. Then he replaced the satin cloth and lid and returned the small box to its crate, covering it with straw and fastening the lid again. With this grim business done, Villads smiled slightly. He would never need dark magic again.

He moved slowly up onto the deck, then raised his anchor and hoisted the mainsail. The ship caught the wind and began moving back out into the bay. Villads's head was still throbbing, and his stomach was still churning from the spell, but the breeze helped to clear his thoughts, and Villads breathed deeply.

A sudden lurch and loud cracking noise pulled him out of his reverie. The ship had hit something. In his somewhat dazed state, Villads hadn't noticed a shallow embayment of rocks near the lighthouse. He ran below deck to survey the damage. A steady stream of water was flowing from a significant crack in the hull. Villads saw that this was beyond his ability to repair with a simple patch or a quickly rigged solution. He cursed under his breath and ran back to his cabin. The magical cache still sat on his desk. Within was a small vial of scales. Villads grabbed this and ran back below deck. Holding the scales in his hand, he muttered a quick incantation and a deep violet light enveloped him. He pointed at the crack in the hull and the light leapt into it. The flow stopped immediately, and Villads collapsed into the ankle deep water in the hold.

Villads didn't remember much of the trip into port. The flashes he did remember, he would much rather have forgotten: dragging himself up and down the stairs to bail out the main hold, trying to maintain his course in the bay while doubled over in pain, retching and gagging over the side of the ship. Truth be told, the worst part of dark magic wasn't the initial shock of the spell; most dark mages no longer even felt those effects. It was the withdrawal, the frantic screaming of his body for more.

After reaching port and tying off, Villads stepped down onto the dock. The eager dock workers were saddened to discover that the entirety of Villads's shipment could be unloaded and carried by him alone but were appeased by the repairs they'd get to do. A grizzled dock mage smirked at him and walked on board to get a better look at the damage.

"I know every single thing on my ship down to the last grain in my stores. I better not find a thing out of place," Villads warned, walking down the gangplank. Standing at the edge of the pier stood his contact, Aren. Villads was never sure how Aren knew exactly when Villads arrived, but they were always there waiting for him at exactly the right moment.

"How'd it go, love?" Aren intoned, almost melodically.

Villads stared at them impassively. "There was a dragon."

Aren's demeanor changed almost immediately. "What? When?"

"Down south of the Bay of the Rift." Villads stopped briefly.

"How did you get away?" Aren asked incredulously.

"Don't think it spotted me, but I had to use a cloaking spell to hide briefly. Damn near put me down for a day, then I smacked into the breaks down by the edge of the bay and had to patch up my ship with more dark magic. I've been half-delirious." Like any good liar, Villads knew the best lies had some truth.

"You must have been real out of sorts to hit those. I thought that was your forte, Villads," Aren teased. "You look terrible, by the way."

"Thanks, you're not much better," Villads joked.

"I've been telling you to name that damn ship, Villads. It's bad luck to have an unnamed boat."

"Quit with your sailors' superstitions, Aren," Villads snapped back.

"Well, it's not surprising about your predicament, all things considered," they said with a sigh. "I think you'll want to hear about what's been going on here in Katolis the last couple of days. You have time to head to Cassidy's for a pint?"

"Let me just make sure everything's set up with my repairs. I'll need to slip the head shoresman and dock mage some cash if I want this job done today. You have my payment?" Villads asked.

"Always." Aren responded, returning to their faintly sing-song tone. "Do you have the shipment?"

Villads picked up the crate and handed it to Aren. Aren surveyed the crate briefly. Villads held his breath and tried to look uninterested. Then Aren stepped away and looked up at him with a smile.

"You are a true saint, Villads," Aren said with a flourish of their hand. Then they reached into their bag and handed Villads a purse of coins. Villads quickly counted his money, though he'd never been cheated in the past. The southern pipeline could be brutal sometimes, but it was nothing if not reliable. He felt pangs of regret and fear and anger in equal measure. These people had treated him well, but there was no escaping the knowledge of the damage they'd done, the evil that this pipeline brought about.

Twenty minutes later at the pub, both of them sat at a corner table. Cassidy had brought them both a pint. Aren told him about Harrow and Viren: how they'd passed through town, about the prize they carried with them, and about the sullen mood that enveloped the whole party.

Aren whispered, "Word in the city of Katolis is they left with the Queens of Duren and with Queen Sarai. But they weren't with them on the return trip. No one knows the full story, but I imagine we'll hear plenty once they return home. If the Queens of Duren are dead, that could really affect things in the northern pipeline for a while. No idea how that could play out or even who the regent would be until their daughter is of age. And if Sarai is dead, I imagine the demand down here for dark magic will only go up."

Villads sat, deep in thought about all he was hearing. "Are you planning on dealing with the high mage in the future?" he asked.

"Are you kidding, love?" Aren exclaimed. "Port Town will always be independent. Those Katolian emissaries always ooze their way into our affairs and where does that leave me? Don't worry, you'll be dealing with me and the pipeline for a good long while, my boy."

"I can't keep doing this forever, Aren. For Ruth's sake."

"I think you know what would happen if you tried to leave," they commented with a grim laugh. "Not that I hold any ill will toward you, but those higher up would certainly have an interest in cutting any dangling threads, so to speak. But you kind of knew what you were getting into, Villads. That wife of yours isn't exactly welcome back home; you don't generally steal from the Queen of Lux Aurea and live to tell about it, so in that sense, she's a lucky woman."

"I don't think we should be talking about this here, Aren," Villads said warily. His eyes darted around the room.

"Nonsense," Aren said. "If we can't talk here at Cassidy's, we can't talk anywhere. Anyway, I'll see what we can work out. If the northern pipeline clears a bit, that might be a great option for the both of you." They drained the rest of their drink then stood. "Are you going to be here in town for long?"

"Until I hear otherwise," Villads lied.

"Well, enjoy the break. I'll be calling on you later this month I imagine. I don't know what's happened with this latest news, but I imagine it's going to affect both supply and demand. But I guess you've already come to that conclusion. I'll let you know. I think you and Ruth could both use some time outdoors. Oh! Speaking of that..." They reached into their bag, felt around briefly, then produced a small lavender stone: a moon opal. "We had one of these laying about." they said with a smirk. "Word is, that high mage caught sight of someone using a dark magic glamour in this here pub just two nights ago. I don't think he knows more than that, and of course Cassidy ain't talking, but they're asking around, and patrols have been increased. So I guess what I'm saying is I think you'll find a good use for this."

Villads took the stone and stared at it in half-wonder. It felt unnaturally cool and smooth in his palm. "Thank you," he managed to stammer. The idea of Ruth resorting to dark magic to escape their home saddened him, but he knew that being confined for weeks on end to their small house, looking out on the nearly endless sky of the bay was an imprisonment even he would have trouble enduring. For a skywing elf, it was torture.

"Don't mention it, love. The pipeline takes care of its own."

Aren tossed Cassidy a few coins and headed out the door. Villads sat for another minute before finishing his drink, then handed Cassidy another coin for good measure and headed back to his ship. Repairs were well underway. He was sailing tonight with Ruth as soon as they could safely make it to port, maybe never to return. As the sun was beginning to set, Villads popped back in to Cassidy's briefly to say a final farewell.

"Hey Cassidy! How's business been?"

"Certainly more interesting than usual, I'll say. Kings and generals and mages; certainly a more unsavory group than your type." Cassidy slid a beer in his direction. "But I did see Ruth a couple nights ago,"

"So I hear," Villads remarked. "How was she doing?"

"She seemed a bit out of sorts but otherwise fine. When the king and those soldiers entered, she pretty quickly made an exit, as you can imagine. Nicked one of their nice shiny daggers too, if I remember correctly."

"She's not exactly keen on authority," he admitted with a laugh.

"I think that high mage of theirs noticed something about her though." Cassidy winked at Villads conspiratorially. "She got away fine, don't worry. You should have seen that high mage's face! He was livid. I'm sure Ruth can take care of herself."

"You have no idea," Villads thought, laughing. He'd seen her sneak out of many a tight situation and fight her way out of just as many. "Anything else interesting happen?"

"Well, after Ruth left, that general came down to the bar and started talking with my youngest boy, Gren. They really connected; I don't think she's had anyone to sign with in days. He's already talking about moving to the capitol and training to be a royal interpreter if you can believe it. But Villads: the Queen is dead. The general didn't say it in so many words, but her grief was clear. She spoke with Gren well past midnight, right about the time that your pal Aren came in to talk with that high mage."

Villads stopped her. "What did you say?"

"Oh, They pulls up a seat next to Viren and the two of them sit talking for a good half hour." Cassidy paused, sensing Villads's distress. "He didn't mention that?"

If Aren was in league with Viren, his emissaries would be in Port Town already. And if they were here, they'd see right through his illusion. They'd come to locate him, and they'd find...

"Ruth!"

Villads rushed out the door and ran down the road out of town.

* * *

The sun had just gone below the horizon when Villads reached his home outside of town, and a veil of clouds had rolled in, bringing with them a steady drizzle. The cottage stood secluded on the dunes near the edge of the water. As Villads approached he noticed lights in the windows. As he got closer, he noticed the door standing ajar. A sudden panic engulfed him. He ran through their gate up to the door and burst in.

"Ruth!"

Ruth sat in the center of the room in a chair. A tall man stood next to her holding a long blade. Her sudden surprise was replaced with wide-eyed panic.

"VIllads, watch out! they're..."

Villads didn't have time to react. He felt a sharp pain down his face. A blade had swept down deep from his forehead to his cheek. In an instant, without warning, Villads was blind. Stunned, he stood for a few seconds in disbelief. As if from a distance, he heard Ruth screaming and struggling. He felt the warmth of the blood flowing down his face onto his shirt. He collapsed to his knees. A sharp kick to his back sent him to the floor.

"Did you really think we wouldn't find out what you'd done, love?" Aren sent a well-placed kick into his kidney. "Did you really think you'd be able to get away with it? Who paid you for it? Evenere? Duren?"

"No one," Villads groaned.

"Liar! The horns were gone, Villads. I took care of you, traitor. I even gave you the key to your salvation with this elf." Aren reached into Villads's pocket, pulled out the moon opal, and dropped it into their bag. "We saw straight through your little illusion."

"Who's 'we'?" Villads replied bitterly. "It seems you're keeping some new company."

Aren quieted him with a stomp. "You think you get to criticize me? Times are changing, Villads, and Katolis is offering me a lot of money and security. But that's kind of irrelevant right now, my boy." Aren sank a knee into Villads's rib. "Now how about this, Villads? You tell me where to find the horns, who we have to kill instead, and we let you and your lovely elven wife walk out of town here alive. What happens then is up to you."

"They were a child," Villads whispered.

"I'm sorry, love, you're going to have to speak up."

"THEY WERE A CHILD!" Villads screamed.

An awareness dawned on Ruth. "Don't tell that snake anything, Villads! Aren, you..." Her voice was cut off by a sharp slap. 

"You bastard!" Villads screamed.

"Sorry love, no hard feelings. This is just business. Now why don't you reevaluate your situation and start talking."

Villads rose up and struck out in the direction of Aren's voice. The tall man next to Ruth stepped forward to intervene, but Aren had already sent Villads back to the ground with an elbow to his neck. His face hit the ground hard. As the tall man's back was turned, Ruth reached behind her and pulled out the Katolian dagger she had stolen. With no hesitation, she slid it between the tall man's ribs. He fell to the ground with a gasp. She moved on to Aren, making a glancing slice at their abdomen and drawing a stream of blood. But at the end of her strike, Aren caught her hand and twisted the knife out of her grasp.

Villads laid on the floor in agony, unable to move. His head felt heavy and foggy. He heard Aren and Ruth struggling near him, and reached weakly for them. Then he heard Ruth's scream, cut short by a slash, a few horrible, choking gasps, and then silence. Aren breathed heavily.

"No..." Villads croaked. He laid broken in the doorway, hoping this was all a nightmare.

"I guess we're past negotiations." Aren growled. Villads heard his footsteps. "Don't worry, Villads. You'll be joining her soon."

Villads crawled feebly out the door and into his front yard. He felt the water puddling beneath him, soaking through his clothing. Sightless, his mind only allowed him to see Ruth's face. An abyss opened up before him. He felt the cold and pressure of an entire ocean sitting on his chest. He felt the flow of the water beneath him. He felt the blood still flowing from his face. He didn't know what his hand was suddenly drawing in the pool of water he found himself in. He didn't understand the words that he found himself uttering, first at a whisper, building into a deep bellowing that shook the ground beneath him. Villads had found a home and family in the sky, and he felt a kinship and love for it.

But Villads was a man of the sea.

* * *

The wind stopped. The rain ceased. The sea birds that were a constant chorus along the shoreline stopped their music and flew into the air. The sudden change caused Aren to stop in the garden in front of Villads and look around quizzically, still holding his stomach where the elf had sliced him. The water from the garden soaked into the ground unnaturally, almost as if it had been sucked down. In the bay, the tide began to draw out. The water ebbed far out into the bay like a massive intake of breath, revealing rocks, sandbars, and shipwrecks in the seafloor. And then the breath was released.

The wind hammered at the shack. A loud rushing could be heard. An immense white-capped wave rushed toward the cottage. Aren had little time to react. The wave hit them with an unbelievable ferocity. Aren was thrown backward into the cottage by the force of it. The roof of the home was pulled away by the waves, and Aren found themself pinned against the stone wall, as windows were broken and stones pulled away around them in a flow of rushing water, sand, rock, and debris. They felt the sting of these striking their body in the giant wave. And then, after some time, the sharp stinging pain ceased. The water around and above them was as still as a lake. Aren was suddenly aware of the sharp pain they felt, and with some difficulty, opened their eyes. In front of them, several feet away, stood the figure of a man, hair flowing outward into the water but as still as a stone, anchored to the sand by some unseen force. His ruined eyes seemed to somehow stare right into Aren. The figure took slow, plodding steps toward them. His chest moved as if he was breathing the sea itself. The figure reached him and his features resolved into those of Villads. Aren's head began to feel light. Their chest spasmed from lack of breath. Villads reached out and removed Aren's bag, then stood silently beneath the fathoms of water above them as Aren's vision blurred and the spasms in their chest ceased.

Some time later, Villads found himself sitting outside of his ruined home, with the events of the evening still too close and too dark to resolve themselves into an order in his head. The gentle drizzle had begun again. He half-stood, half-hunched, and fumbled his way into the ruins of the home itself. Eventually, he found Ruth. Cradling her body in his arms, he cried freely. There would be no funeral for her in the high mountains of her home. Her spirit would not be returned to the sky in the bodies of carrion crows like that of her mother or grandmother before her. The townspeople would already be on their way to find out what happened, and in their home they'd find the body of a skywing elf and commit it to a hastily dug unmarked grave. Villads felt inside Aren's bag. Within were a few vials of dark magic components and the moon opal. And something else. Villads felt the sharp corners and slight warmth and knew that what he held was a Sun Ruby. He kissed Ruth's forehead one last time.

"I love you, Terani."

He stood at the edge of the remnants of his home, then crushed the Sun Ruby with a stone and etched out a symbol in the air in front of him. An immediate, blistering heat could be felt and Villads quickly pulled himself away from it. The home erupted into a white hot flame. When the townsfolk arrived, they'd find nothing but glass here where his home had once stood. Villads followed the shoreline away from his home and the town. As he walked, a dissonant series of images began to flash in his head: vibrant scenes of the shoreline, of flight, of him and another bird fighting over a fish. In the eyes of a gull, he watched a pillar of smoke rise from the remains of his home carrying Terani back to her home in the sky.

* * *

Villads stood on deck, casually sipping his tea. The three mercenaries surrounding him weren't sure what to make of his calm demeanor.

"What, may I ask, are you planning for our young princes of Katolis?" Villads asked.

"We suspect they'll fetch a hefty ransom from the High Council," the archer answered. "And as for the elf, I assume you know their horns fetch a decent price these days."

The smile left Villads's face.

"Do you want to know one of the great secrets to life?" He asked them.

"What would that be?" the archer responded.

"Waterproof socks!" He said, pointing at his feet. "It's a metaphor."

The three mercenaries looked at each other, bewildered. "What? And how is that even a metaphor? You literally just pointed at them."

Villads wasn't listening. He reached into his tea cup and traced a symbol into the liquid.

_ "Sepulcrum Mari" _

The breeze stopped. A deep rumbling could be felt beneath them, and the ship began to rock wildly. The mercenaries were thrown to the edges of the ship, where they held on desperately. The waves rose higher around the ship, and it seemed to sink into a depression in the tumult that deepened steadily until it became an unnatural column of sea, held back from the ship by some unseen force. A ceiling of water filled in above them and bathed them in a blue green light that steadily dimmed to a faint deep blue twilight as the ship sunk further and further into the deep bay. The mercenaries began screaming at Villads, but they dared not risk further violence. The ship came to rest on the seafloor 100 fathoms beneath the surface. There was a brief pause. The silence was total around them. And then with a sudden roar, the wall of water gave way around them. A deluge ice cold water rushed in, tearing at the mercenaries, easily pulling them away from the ship and into the crushing depths of the bay. The last image they might have seen was of a sightless man, standing serenely on the deck of the sunken ship in the dim twilight of the seafloor. As quickly as it had descended, the ship shot back up to the surface.

"No one ever understands my metaphors."

Villads walked back into his cabin. It had taken all of his concentration to prevent the areas below deck from being flooded as well. Berto was still pinned to the wall, and his calls were beginning to weaken. Villads broke the end of the arrow off and pulled Berto down, then placed him gently on the floor.

"What have they done to you, Berto? Well, I wish we could have saved this for a real emergency and not some bloodthirsty idiots," Villads said removing a glowing red stone from his bag. He crushed it in one hand, holding the other near Berto's wound. "Lux Sanitatem!" A bright burst of white light filled the cabin. While Villads couldn't see the light, he could feel the warmth of it bathing him. Berto squawked loudly at first and then he eased. Villads lifted him up and sat him on a perch on his desk.

"Took you long enough," Berto squawked angrily.

"I was as quick as I could be, given the situation. And you'd be dead right now if it wasn't for that Sun Ruby! It's not like we have one of those sitting around every day!"

Berto glared at him, clearly frustrated.

Villads relented. "I'm sorry, old friend. Next time I'll hurry things up."

"Let's hope there's not a next time," Berto muttered. "You should tell Crow Lord what happened."

Villads nodded. He let his awareness slip back down into the abyss and followed the steady undulations of the bay back to pier where Crow Lord still sat, throwing a few scraps of pickled fish to an eager cormorant. The cormorant sat greedily eating them, then stopped and looked up at Crow Lord.

"Sorry about that," the cormorant grunted. "Had a little bit of trouble with some mercenaries, but that's resolved now."

"Glad to hear it," Crow Lord responded. "We're likely to see more folks trying to profit from their journey. Xadia isn't exactly free of mercenaries and thieves either. So what are your plans from here?" 

"Head over to the Xadian port. I imagine even if everything goes according to plan, we're likely to see some interesting times ahead. Who knows? There may be more ways I can help yet."

"Well, good luck, friend. I'll report back to Duren. Take care of yourself." Crow Lord stood and walked away from the pier. A few gulls flocked behind him as he left.

* * *

A lone ship sailed out from the Bay of Katolis and into the Southern Sea. At its bow, a parrot sat and stared out at the horizon. At the helm stood a thin, bearded man. He felt the breeze on his skin. He heard the sounds of the wind on the sails and the waves lapping against the hull. He smelled the salt air.

Berto watched the faint column of steam get closer over the course of the day. By dusk, they were in sight of shore and the column looked massive nearly beyond comprehension, drifting off into the sky miles above them. A glow of lava lit its base.

"We're here, Berto." Villads smiled. He remembered the last time he stood here in this spot with Ruth and the words and embraces they'd shared so many years ago. The memory was still as vivid now as it had ever been. "I need to borrow your eyes one more time, friend."

Berto agreed curtly and flew to Villads's shoulder. Villads reached into his bag and felt for a smooth, cool stone, one he'd had for quite a while. Finding it, he held it out in front of him and breathed deeply.

_ "Historia Viventum" _


End file.
